| i am the bullgod… i am free… and i feed on all that is forsaken
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| i’m gonna get you… i see through you… i’m gonna get you
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| i’m like a train i roll hard… lettin' off much steam
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| in the carhart flannel and dusty jeans baby
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| i never was cool with james dean
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| but i be hanging tough with my man jim beam
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| i swing low… like a chimp
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| back in '86 man i was seein' a shrink
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| but now i’m humble and i can only think
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| about new orleans and those jumbo shrimp
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| so ask no questions and i’ll tell no lies
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| i got big ol' pupils and blood shot eyes
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| i’m on the brink… if you know what i mean
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| and a 12 step program couldn’t keep me clean
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| 'cause i’m the bullgod… you understand
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| the illegitimate son of man
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| the t-o-p to the d-o-g
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| or the p-o-t to the g-o-d
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| and i’m trippin'
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| said i’m trippin'
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| i am the bullgod… i am free… and i feed on all that is forsaken
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| i’m gonna get you… i see through you… i’m gonna get you
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| a lot of people poke fun and that’s alright
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| but when i start pokin' back they get all uptight
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| you can’t cap with the master son
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| so sit your ass down before i blast ya one
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| 'cause i’m so greasy you can call me mud
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| and i feel a little hank runnin' through my blood
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| i wanna flood the world with my twisted thoughts
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| you can bet all day but i can’t be bought
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| break it up let’s tie one on
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| i gotta get set to go and cut the lawn
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| so i grab my walkman but before i cut
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| i got behind the garage and fire it up
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| 'cause i’m the bullgod… you understand
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| the illegitimate son of man
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| the t-o-p to the d-o-g
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| or the p-o-t to the g-o-d |